Undeserving
by Sapphire1112
Summary: Based on the end of 'Twist of fate'. I do not own the Characters or the episode 'Twist of fate'.
1. Chapter 1

**Neil**

I've never seen Grace _completely_ lose her temper like that before – it was quite something. I sort of enjoyed watching that – something I feel bad about because she was upset. I don't want her to be upset – that's the last thing I want and its times like this, that I struggle not to pull her close and comfort her, but I can't. I'm her boss and we're at work, in the middle of a case. Nothing can happen here. Nothing can start here, _not right now._ Anyway, I don't want her to be upset, but she's so beautiful and when she lost her temper just then, it was stunning! I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Grace appears next to me in the viewing room. She's still angry – I can practically feel it radiating off her, but she's not as angry as she was in the interview and I know her anger isn't aimed at me. She glares at the suspect through the one-way window.

"He's a clever guy!" She almost growls through gritted teeth. "He knows with the amount of decomp of the remains and a viable story..."

What I have to tell her will not be easy for her to accept and I mentally prepare myself for her reaction. "Grace..."

"You think he's telling the truth?" She's interrupted me – but somehow she still managed to make it sound respectful.

Well, here goes nothing. "Forensics are back. The blood on the hypodermic needle was a DNA match to Lisa..." I look at her. She looks disbelieving, but she's listening to me and that's a start, so I decide it's safe to continue. "Tox screens show a high concentration of heroin. Probable overdose." I risk looking at her again, but it's a mistake this time because she's looking directly at me and there's a fierce look in her eyes. Wow!

I find it increasingly difficult to keep looking at her, so I look away again quickly, and swallow the lump in my throat.

"Kathy's been beating herself up _every day_...about not being there for her sister." Grace says reproachfully. I steal another look at her. She's still looking at me, but her eyes are softer now and she asks me for advice. "What do we do with that?" Not 'I' – ' _we_ '. She may be my DC and I may be her inspector, but we see each other as equals. So I give her the advice I have.

"Tell her what really happened. That's what she's always wanted." Grace looks crestfallen and once again, I have to check my actions before Iforgetmyself and physically comfort her. I continue talking instead – hoping that my words can do what my arms aren't allowed too. "Cos a case like this...should keep you up at night. But if there's a ring of truth around the confession and no evidence, you've got to let it go." I glance at her. She looks more disheartened than ever and I can't stand it. All I want to do is comfort her. She hugs her arms against her chest and stares at the floor sadly.

" _It will keep me up tonight. I guarantee it_." She mutters under her breath. She thinks I didn't hear her, but I did and it's like a knife being twisted in my heart, seeing her so dejected.

"Grace, it was the drugs that killed her." I say quietly. Her arms drop to her sides as I walk past.I catch one of her hands in mine and give it a squeeze as I leave the room.

I hope she finds some comfort in it.

 **Grace**

I stare at the photo of Lisa. Neil is right, _the drugs_ killed her, but I still let her down – let Kathy down, their father. I failed as a police officer and I no longer feel deserving of my position. That's why I've made this decision. I close the file and wipe away the remains of the tears that have been pouring down my face, and then I drive back to the station.

 **Neil**

I go into my office to collect my coat before I go home – and it's there on my desk. I read with shock, the details of the document, before hurriedly concealing it in the depths of my desk drawer and locking it away. No one can know – not until I've spoken to her. _Not until I've talked her out of it and torn up the offending document._

I grab my coat and close the office door behind me. Jo is still at her desk – she's working unusually late tonight. "Have you seen Grace?" I ask her casually.

"Think she's gone home." Jo looks nervous and hesitates slightly before continuing. "She looked like she's been crying when I saw her last guv..." She hesitates again before adding, "... _a lot._ – I didn't want to say anything to her cos' you know she doesn't like showing her emotions, so I just let her go – but it's very unusual so I thought I should mention it."

Grace _crying?_ I nod, trying not to look more concerned than I would if it had been Jo herself who was crying.. "Thanks for letting me know – she struggled with the case today. See you tomorrow, Jo."

"See ya, Guv."

To say that I'm _worried_ about Grace would be an understatement. She _never_ cries and she _never_ gets angry or loses her temper – at least not in front of other people anyway., so I go to her flat. We're off shift now. I'm no longer her boss, for now I'm her friend and more than that if she wants me to be. I'm there to comfort her- to _be whatever she needs._

There is no answer when I ring the bell on her block – or when I knock on her door after her neighbour lets me into her block, but when I try her door, it's unlocked. She's a police officer - he really should know better and I'm glad I'm there to check on her, but an unlocked door at this moment suits my purpose, so _I let myself in_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Neil**

Grace is sitting on the floor of her kitchen with her back against the counter and a glass of wine next to her. She's cut her hand and is dripping blood everywhere but she doesn't seem to have noticed. I crouch down next to her and speak softly so I don't startle her.

" _Grace_?"

" _Huh?_...Oh, hi." She's tipsy and is having trouble keeping me in focus. I notice the broken glass on the kitchen floor.

"What...?"

"Huh?"

She _just about_ manages to follow my gaze - with a lot of difficulty. Her eyesight is not under her control at the moment.

"Oh, I dropped vase...or a bowl...or _something_." She explains vaguely and I can't help wondering just how much wine she's actually had. "I felt dizzy, so I sat down." She adds mildly as though the kitchen floor is a perfectly normal place to sit.

"I'm not surprised!...You know you're bleeding?" I comment.

"What?!" Grace scrambles to her feet. She is unsteady and sounds slightly hysterical. She immediately sways dangerously. Her balance is not good - another effect of all the drink she consumed. I catch her before she falls flat on her face and lead her over to the sofa.

" _Where's m_ _y wine_ _gone?_ " She exclaims suddenly, when I sit her down.

"I think you've had more than enough already! I'll make you a cup of tea and clear up that broken glass before you stand on it!" I tell her, taking a clean tissue from her coffee table and wrapping it around her hand - a make-shift bandage until I find her first-aid.

Grace giggles. "Yes, guv." Well, she sort of knows who I am then.

I'm not used to this side of her and I hope that she's not _too_ embarrassed when she sobers up. I walk over to her kitchen, fill the kettle and then carefully pick up the broken glass, whilst the kettle boils in the background. There are two bottles of wine on the counter - one just started and the other is empty. Well, I guess that answers _that_ question, then. Grace will almost certainly have a hangover tomorrow. I start opening cupboards to search for her mugs and chance upon the first-aid kit. I find two mugs on my fifth attempt. As I pour out the tea, two warm arms wrap around me from behind.

"Hi luscious honey-bunny!"

 _What?! Where the hell did she get that from?_

I very nearly drop the kettle with surprise. _'_ _Luscious_ _honey bunny'?!_ The highly unexpected phrase repeats over and over in my mind. Grace is _definitely_ going to be embarrassed about that! At least it confirms that she fancies me though - well, sort of!

"Mm. I wondered where you'd got to." She murmurs.

I glance back at the two-seater sofa where she was sitting. It more or less faces the kitchen area , so she would have been looking at me while she was sat there. I sigh and pat her arms fondly. "Come on, tea's ready." I lead her back to the sofa again with her tea – this time sitting her on the three-seater, which faces the opposite direction where the tele is, Then I make a second trip for my cup of tea and the first-aid box.

As I sit down next to her, Grace gives me a smile that doesn't really fit her face. It's a sort of vacant grin which looks as though it has been 'painted' on a sticker and stuck over her mouth. I gently unwrap her hand.

"Right, we need to wash this, Grace."

"Ok." She happily agrees. For now – it will probably sting quite a lot, but she hasn't worked that out yet.

I lead her back over to the sink, run the cold water tap and hold her bleeding hand under running water. She reacts just as I predicted – squealing and trying to pull away.

I put my arm around her to stop her. "Grace, Grace – I know it hurts but I have to clean it!"

"Ok" She mutters and stops struggling – though she still winces and jumps occasionally. I dry her hand with kitchen roll, then sit her back on the sofa, where I bandage her hand – as best I can anyway, then we drink our tea.

" _This_...is nice." Grace comments, waving her bandaged hand around the surrounding flat vaguely.

I'm not sure which part she thinks is nice. She had a difficult case, handed her resignation in – or attempted to – a little ' crease' I still need to work on ironing out, but it can wait until she's sobered up. Then she got drunk, broke something made of glass (I'm still not entirely sure what it used to be before she broke it!) and then she cut her hand on the broken glass, so exactly which part of that was nice? Mind you, I suppose _everything_ seems 'nice', when you're tipsy – until the hangover!

"I'll put the tele on" I suggest.

" _I love this one!_ " Grace suddenly coos as I flick through the channels, but I think she would have said that if it was 'Mr Blobby' at this point – she's past the point of reasonable awareness.

As it happens, it's James Bond 'Moonraker' and we watch it for a while, then I feel something heavy on my shoulder. I glance down.

"Night, night!" Grace mutters. I check my watch.

 _It's quarter to nine._


End file.
